Yesterday, I went to the doctor because I haven’t been sleeping very well and I’m sick of yelling at people all day because of it. I don’t want to get hoarse for shitssake. But, I should’ve known it wasn’t going to go well when I had just pulled out my damn Ellen book in the waiting room to read and the damn nurse chirped loudly in front of me, “HANNAH!” I jumped up and she glared at me. I closed the book and walked with her behind the doors. I saw the scale coming and I was hoping that this time we’d pass it by. Nope.
“Can I get you to hop up on here?” the nurse asked, assuming that I “hop”–I wanted to say, ‘Look bitch the only time I hop is once a year when I see that Cadbury Eggs are back.’ Instead, I made a show of taking off my jacket and debated under her cool stare whether or not I should take off my shoes or to tell her I had just eaten a huge wrap sandwich and drank a soda and it might affect my weight drastically–like at least by 20 pounds.
When I hopped up on the scale I saw that I’d nearly gained back all of the 10 pounds I had lost this past year. I was determined to eat nothing but air Watermelon Jolly Ranchers and drink nothing but water from then onwards. Luckily, I scored some Ambien so I felt better by the time I left, but I had to walk past that wretched scale and the damn nurse with the chipping fingernail polish who knows my awful truth and doesn’t realize my shoes alone weigh at least 5 pounds, probably, maybe, not…
Today, I weighed myself at the gym after a treadmill session and was pleased to see that the scale was down almost 6 pounds since yesterday. (Note: I did take off my shoes and didn’t eat a wrap) I called my Mother and told her the weight at the doctor’s office and she said, “You know, you can’t trust those scales at the doctor’s office. They set them so everyone weighs more so they can bitch at you about it at your appointment. Everyone knows that.”
Actually Mom, I didn’t know that, nor do I really believe it. But from now on I’m going with it. But, since the doctor’s scale disaster I did have a few positives…I’ve come up with and re-assessed my goals.
New Goals:
Be at my goal weight (60 pounds down) by my next driver’s license photo.
Lose 6 pounds in the next month (by the regular scale’s standards).
Don’t believe everything my Mother says…
Posted on May 18th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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It’s been a few months now since my new driver’s license came in the mail. The woman who took the photo was a huge Swedish blonde–not the kind that men want to be with, but the kind that could kick those pansies asses. This is why I didn’t ask her to see the photo. I wanted to be surprised in the same way I was with my previous photo. I was in love with it. Obsessed with it. I showed it to everyone, not caring that I almost put down my actual weight because I was convinced everyone would see the beauty of the photograph and wonder if it was a Glamor Shot.
I did become obsessed with the new license for awhile…in the worst way. In it my hair was dyed a hideous shade of general darker-than-usual and I looked like that lesbian kid on Charlie Brown…the one with the sidekick with the glasses. It might not have been so bad had I just looked like her…but in reality I looked like her after she’d grown up, had 5 kids, gotten punched in the face a few times working the McDonald’s drive-thru and smoked several thousand packs of Misty 100s…well that with a THICK double chin.
Those first few months I showed everyone the photo. I thought if I could laugh about it I’d feel better. In my show and tell period my father got his hands on it and called me, “Fatty Face!” for several months…thank Goodness he’s getting old and forgetful and has since given that up. But he was right. And every server who has the gall to card me (I know it’s just because my damn boyfriend is 35 going on 18…fucking baby face) gets me responding with handing over my license and saying, “Don’t you look at that picture!” As though I was trying to conjure up the same mettle that the Swedish DMV worker had when she boomed, “Next!”
For the past months I have tried to forget that everywhere I go I am within a few feet of that truthful picture. But today I had to pull it out to fill in some paperwork for a new job. I caught the eye of the Fatty Faced monster and held it. I stared. And I realized that I had been avoiding this picture for a long time now. But maybe it’s exactly what I need. I even went to the gym after staring at it. So, instead of the pressure and fight with the scale once a week I am going to pull out the Fatty Face and stare at it. I think it may be more effective in getting to my goal. Next go around I want to go back to the Glamor Shot. Period. And I will start saying, “Here’s my ID! Look at that picture. No really, look at it, bitch! Appreciate.”
Posted on May 12th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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The other morning when I was eating my bagel with cream cheese breakfast and feeling guilty I saw a magazine that belonged to my mother and so I picked it up. It was one of her older lady mags with all sorts of tips and hints and recipes and mostly just ads for creams to make you look younger. I flipped through and came upon a section about losing “belly fat” (of course, there is always a section like this in these magazines).
This article was unlike most of their weight loss articles in that it had belly fat divided by age group. Apparently, at certain ages the battle plan changes for fighting the ominous belly fat monster. The first group was the “30s” (they skipped the 20s for the sole reason that no one in their 20s reads this shit, except me but I’m 29) then came the “40s” and “50s and Beyond”. The “50s and Beyond” solution was to walk and pray…no wonder that woman was still quite fat and too bad I’m not that old I could do that. The solution for the 40s was to walk and then do lunges or squats or something–thank God, I’m not in my 40s yet I don’t know how to do a proper squat. And, staring at a chick doing them at the gym to learn makes me look like a creeper. And finally, the solution for the 30s age group was to do walk/jog/run intervals.
With each section there was a set of photographs of a woman who had done the exercises and lost weight. The older ladies were bigger and lost weight so they still looked chunky, but the woman representing the “30s” (which is the section I focused on) was tiny and now a Zumba instructor. If that weren’t enough she’d popped out four kids. And then I read that she lost weight by doing walking workout DVDs! The same walking workout DVDs I have been doing for years and not lost any weight with. And, if that weren’t enough, her “Before” weight was how much I weigh now. Yeah, that’s right I am officially a “Before” weight.
I kept staring at her tiny body trying to tell myself it was airbrushed. All day the fact that I am a “Before” weight started to weigh on my mind…so I went to the gym and I have decided to go on a break from bagels…for now. But then I realized that this “Before” weight is actually where I’m at. I have been falling off the wagon of diet and exercise and while I’m not back to where I started, I have a ways to go. I am going to break through this “Before” phase because now I’m determined to look better than that Zumba slut in the “After” photo. Damnit.
Posted on April 28th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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The other day I got a message from a friend of mine who is pregnant, again. Seriously, she collects babies like a boring person collects postage stamps or dust. “We should hang out I need to get out,” she whined. Little did I know that this would mean going to the maternity store to go swimsuit shopping. This is the same girl who told me over the phone the other day. “I went to the gym even though I didn’t want to.” This was the day I didn’t want to go to the gym, and didn’t.
The maternity store is a curious place for someone who has never been pregnant or able to shop in a clothing store with “regular” person-sized clothing. I looked around the store and found that while all of these clothes were for pregnant women they were for skinny pregnant women. “Don’t fat chicks get maternity clothes?” I asked my friend. “Yeah, they got a few things here but this stuff is mostly for smaller women.”
“A few things” meant shitty clothes on a sale rack…except for one 3X dress that I considered buying but didn’t for fear of someone asking me where I had purchased it and then asking, “Are you pregnant?” This has happened before…What I was really waiting for was the sales lady at the maternity store to ask me if I was expecting so I could drop the, “Not pregnant, just fat” line on her skinny ass. That bitch.
The real kick in the stomach (proverbial in my case, of course) was the fact that my pregnant friend tried on a bikini. Ugh. So, I told her it made her tits look like shit. When my preggo friend was first looking at the bikinis she had said, “Maybe I need a two-piece to let it all hang out and show it off a little.” Maybe fat women should be able to do that too. Maybe fat women shouldn’t be cordoned off in the swimsuit realm to car cover-sized apparel with ruffles and shorts. Maybe we should get a chance to let it all hang out and show it off a little too, dammit. After all we big ladies got a lot more to show off! Here’s to a fat chick bikini revolution.
Posted on April 22nd, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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I ate Goldfish crackers. Not one, not one serving but an entire bag of Goldfish crackers. Granted they were White Cheddar, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel bad about it. The really shit part is the rush I get when I taste the bottom of a nice FlavorBurst bag. The delectable crushed up little bits of heaven that are way too salty to be good, but just salty enough to make me feel like I did when I was 16 and I started smoking because I wanted to be a badass. Funny, I could quit the smoking (after 9 years) but not the Goldfish.
I immediately punished myself by dragging my ass to the gym and calling everyone I know to tell them I ate an entire bag of Goldfish. This included my skinny, pregnant friend who said to me, “That’s not the way it works, you don’t eat the whole bag of Goldfish.” This also includes telling my boyfriend. His response was, “You are beautiful.”
I thought about it as I huffed it out on the treadmill and watched pregnant Kardashians on the screen who weigh less than I do, combined. Just the other day my man and I were talking about whether or not we should move in together or get hitched first. He said he’d seen on TV that people who move in together wind up breaking up. I argued with, “They would probably break up anyway and don’t you think it’s a good idea to preview your significant other’s day to day events?” Then I got to thinking.
Maybe I should get hitched first to him then he won’t dump me for my strange eating habits. But, would I eat an entire bag of Goldfish if I had a witness? Absolutely not. It’s one thing to call up my friends and confess but doing something so shameful in front of another person, forget it! Maybe marriage is the answer to me and the Goldfish…but, then I could hear my tiny pregnant friend’s voice echoing in my head, “That’s not the way it works.” That bitch, that’s the last time I’m calling her to vent. I mean, I already ate my death in salt content I don’t need a lecture on top of it.
Pounds Lost to Date: 8.4
Weeks In: 16
Weeks to Go: 49
Posted on April 10th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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It has come to my attention that it’s been two weeks now with no post or weigh-in. There is very good reason for that I have suffered a traumatic break up…with The scale. After months of going steady and standing with each other I have called us on a break for awhile while I explore my options. I am proud to say that I can finally admit to myself that at this time last year I had an affair with a handsome man named, Cadbury Cream Egg. An affair that I have moved past, but one that has been replaced by a fellow named, Peep (the hot pink bunny kind, of course). Hopefully, for next year’s Easter Season affair there will be with a gentleman by the name of Water. But, it’s hard to say. I think for now though I’m going to try to reconcile with The Scale. At least he isn’t so fly by night as holiday candy. I need a steadfast companion who will tell me the truth, un-sugarcoated…
Posted on April 2nd, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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This week was all over the place. I spent the majority of it fretting about a work project and watching videos about the World’s Fattest Mom. I learned all about how she gained weight and how she is a sex object in the fat community. And then I discovered she has since given up this race and is now broke in the Midwest. This last part made me a little sad..so I needed to pick my spirits up with some spiritual stuff.
So, for the past few days I’ve been on one of my hippie new age kicks. I go on youtube and watch videos of Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday programming and become all inspired. The latest guru I’ve latched onto (trust me there have been many) is Panache Desari. What he preaches is to love and accept and embrace who you are. “You are perfect!” “Live in your awesomeness.” and all that. He talks about writing love letters in your mind to yourself and, of course, waking up grateful everyday. So, I figured why not. I put down the sarcasm (except for bitching about the bouncy-haired slut on the treadmill who drives me crazy) and started to love myself. He says doing this will bring health, wealth, and sexiness…we’ll see.
But, that self love didn’t keep me from weighing in. And, while I didn’t lose much weight, I decided to love my results. Since I began this blog three months ago I have lost a total of 8.4 pounds. While not miraculous, it is certainly not a gain to my weight. I am proud of these 8.4 and look forward to the awesomeness that I will be dwelling in. Let’s just hope that at some point my awesomeness can shop at stores other than Lane Bryant.
Panache says, “You are not broken.” Everything that is happening to you is a blessing and is SUPPOSED to happen. So maybe I am supposed to lose slowly. And maybe I am supposed to hate everyone at the gym. And maybe, just maybe one day I am supposed to finally drop to just “overweight” on the BMI spectrum. But if not, then I will still think I’m awesome.
Weight Loss to date: 8.4 pounds
Weeks to go: 53
Pounds to go: 56.6
Posted on March 17th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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Hi All!
Last night my boyfriend and I went out to meet some friends. And I had to work late and miss my regular gym time. If that weren’t awful enough I ate tater tots dipped in blue cheese at the restaurant…if that weren’t bad enough we also went to the candy store and when we brought our goodies in to share with our pals I ate nearly all of the gummies and chocolates and if that weren’t bad enough I also mowed down the entire bag of white cheddar popcorn.
Then on the ride home I I asked my man, “Isn’t Monica’s boyfriend waaaaaaaay fatter than last time we saw him?!” As I digested my regrets at 80 miles an hour I went on and on about how fat he is only to get to the coffeeshop and realize one of our so-called friends had snapped a HIDEOUS pic of me and posted it on my Facebook page. I had the thickest double chin this side of Mama June. I just hope I don’t get the crusty neck or I’d have to cut off my own head. Then I remembered what I’d eaten and discovered that I was no one to call anyone else’s boyfriend fat and I cried…a lot.
So, despite not having gone to the gym for a few days this morning I was determined to have my double-chin wagging double-time on the treadmill. And, not give a shit about the hot blonde muscle man next to me who wasn’t sweating and dying. When I was about to leave I walked up to the scale to confront my tater tot addiction head-on…and to see if I could actually see down there anymore with my chin growth and all. And to my surprise, the scale was missing.
I am purposely NOT buying a scale so as to not obsess and to have to go to the gym to weigh myself so I was devastated to see it gone and immediately took it as an omen and a blessing that I wasn’t the one who had busted it. But then I saw it’s cord threading into the bathroom. Perfect. No one else will be witness to my weight gain. I popped into the bathroom and stripped NAKED and weighed myself to find that I had actually lost weight! The old me would be stoked to find that I ate candy and tater tots and lost weight the new me decided to cut my ties with them as I hopped up and down in delight…until I realized I was in my stocking feet in a semi-public bathroom.
So here’s to a better week of eating and defriending skanks who post shitty pics of me online.
Weight Loss to Date: 7.6
Weeks to go: 54
Pounds to go: 57.4
Posted on March 8th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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This week may not have been monumental in the weight loss department but I had a fun lesson to learn.
In addition to being a big girl, I am a big girl with a very supportive man. I know, those of you who don’t have one of those may be cringing right now and I would’ve been right along with you in the barf-fest until last May when I was FINALLY given a good man. Seriously, hang in their sisters, it’s worth the wait. YOU are worth the wait. In the meantime, live as the great and powerful RuPaul suggests, “If you don’t love yourself how in the hell you gonna love anybody else?”
ANYWAY, I started the Couch to 5K program at the gym this week and while I may be doing week one’s workouts for a few more weeks than recommended due to a heart rate that scares the hell out of me during the running portion I am still doing it. And, inspired by The Biggest Loser (as always), I brought my boyfriend along for what they call an “active date.” This sounds romantic but was rather forced. He hates the gym.
He came along anyway and tried to keep up with me on the Couch to 5K. Now, I’ve never been one to have a workout buddy but, my man is hot so I wanted him along…plus he stares at my ass and salivates unlike the meatheads at the gym that largely don’t notice my delectable largeness. After my man rained sweat all over the treadmill and I pretended to be Jillian Michaels he got off while I finished my last few intervals with him staring at me.
What I learned is this: bringing along someone to the gym who is not as advanced as you are makes you feel like a pro. I know it sounds douche-y but you are helping the too…if you don’t brag too much. I also learned that while I have a great man who supports me, he won’t be returning to the gym anytime soon. But, at least he still lets me rag on him when he insists on getting a Shamrock shake instead of a fro-yo. Little did he know this would involve me asking for a calorie sheet in the drive-thru. And little did I know that I would come to realize me ragging on him is really just a cover-up for my lack of responsible eating. That is a story for another day…
In the mean time, don’t give up on yourselves sisters and don’t give up on finding a man who appreciates you for who and how you are…even if you can be a real jackass at the gym. 
Pounds Lost to Date: 5.2
Pounds to go: 59.8 (UNDER 60!)
Weeks to go: 55
Posted on March 4th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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I have skipped a week of blogging. I have excuses but mostly I didn’t like my results so I thought, “Fuck it.” Which I do realize is the same mentality that caused me to eat two Neopolitan Oreos and feel like shit about it. I also felt like shit about not blogging so I’m back minus the Oreos.
I thought I’d share with you two events of yesterday. At the gym I climbed aboard the treadmill, leaving behind my trusted elliptical. And, I started the program Couch to 5K. Which basically means I ran for a minute and walked for a minute and repeated this 9 times (one more than I was supposed to for good measure). I did it though–despite during the walking I was breathing so hard I was completely bent over the machine. Afterwards I felt like such a freaking winner. The only thing that sucked was that the creep who hits on me wasn’t there to fist bump me and say, “Hey, way to work it out!”
Later, I went to celebrate with my man. After I ate a wrap (and french fries dipped in blue cheese, I know I hate how good that shit tastes too) I saw a girl I work with walk through the restaurant. She is the only person at my job who likes me. And, I like her too because she not only took the time to speak to me she wrote down her fitness routine (intervals with inclines and speeds) for me to look at and offered words of encouragement. I waved her to my table and she wobbled over on unsteady heels.
“Hey, I did intervals today on the treadmill!”
“That’s awwwweeeessssommmee,” she slurred. Then she launched into a half an hour story that repeated itself a little too much and nearly had her in tears of joy. She spoke about her 30 pound weight loss from three years ago. She told me that with the five months only that it had taken her to shed the weight she’d changed her lifestyle. Then she offered to show me the fitness journal she had kept. Then she said, “So, this morning I was really fucking hung over and then I got up and I went to the gym and now, now I am able to do this!” She toasts her beer. “It’s amazing, it’s changed my life, for real.” With that, her friends snatched her up and whisked her off to the next bar.
While I am not sure whether or not she works out so she can drink heavily or to be healthier, it’s nice to have a skinny bitch I don’t hate cheering me on. She’s a little better than the fist-bumper at the gym…at least she doesn’t stare at my ass too much.
Weight Loss This Past Two Weeks: 1.2
Weight Loss to Date: 5 pounds
Pounds to Go: 60
Weeks to Go: 56
Pounds lost to date: 5
Pounds to go: 60
Posted on February 25th, 2013 by biggirlproblems
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